All That's Left Are Your Bones
by BonGarland
Summary: Warning: The Dark World spoilers, sort of? My take on the second funeral that should have been held. Based on the amazing song "your bones" by Of Monsters and Men.


**So, something along these lines definitely should have been shown / done-at-all / acknowledged in the film. That said, it was amazing and I just got all these feels and...**

**Definitely give the song "your bones" by of monsters and men a try. The lyrics to me speak of a viking funeral, and inspired the very baseline of this fic. Thanks for reading guys, and I still own nothing but a poster of Loki whose eyes seem to track my movements. **

* * *

Regret was stewing within him. So much of the emotion had been incurred in just the past couple days, and Thor could do nothing to mute it.

Frigga was gone. Loki was gone. Odin was more emotionally distant than ever.

The god of thunder did not often dwell in the darker places of his mind, but tonight, before he returned to Midgard the next morning, he would have to.

Loki, the other side of his coin, the depths to his heights, the counterweight on the scale of his life for so many centuries, was gone, gone for saving his life. And how could Thor repay that? A few scant years of misguided, evil action was not nearly enough to overcome Thor's centuries-old concern and love for his brother, no matter what he said aloud to the trickster.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He had commissioned a ceremonial ship from the finest craftsman in Asgard when he returned from defeating Malekith, after he had spoken with Odin. He'd also had the most trusted royal staff clear out Loki's old quarters, and any other hovels he'd been known to linger in, and had the meager possessions gathered and brought to Thor that evening. Odin seemed to pay no mind the fact that his other son was dead and gone, spending most of his time in his throne room, tracing the throne itself with his fingers over and over.

Thor, at least, was going to say goodbye to his brother properly.

Too much had happened too quickly on Svartalfheim, and he had been forced to abandon Loki's body while he and Jane sought the exit portal to catch Malekith. He wasn't sure what he regretted most in his life, but he was sure that dismissive, insulting act was a prime candidate. Loki had been left cold, alone, to fade to dust in the Dark World.

As penance, Thor had forced himself to remain on Asgard until the ship was completed, until Loki was given his due. He would reward himself with Jane's company when he had behaved like an honorable Asgardian.

* * *

Thor was pulled from his reverie by a soft voice. "M'lord…" He turned from the bridge where he overlooked the harbor, unfolding his arms. "Yes?"

"You requested the belongings of Master Loki, did you not? We could not find much, a few books, a cloak, a cuff of armor with his sigil on it…" The quiet servant girl bowed her head, raising her arms to proffer the items she'd listed off.

Thor swallowed thickly at the sight of the last remnants of Loki's presence in Asgard. How had it happened that this was his powerful brother's legacy? A few trinkets and spellbooks?

He murmured his thanks, taking the bundle from the girl and bowing low himself. She blushed, curtsying and nodding before scampering off, and he turned back to face the dark water. The ship was already afloat, the brand-new varnish glinting even in the evening darkness.

Heaving a sigh, Thor shifted his load and began a solemn trek to the beach. All who passed him bowed their heads in respect, but his eyes were downcast, scarcely seeing the path he walked. When his boots met less resistance, he knew he'd left the cobblestone road for the golden sand of Asgard, and a beacon ahead beckoned to him. It was Sif, the only other he'd told of his intentions, who held a lit torch and a sorrowful expression.

"Are you sure you want to be alone?" She asked cautiously, watching as Thor's cloaked form tugged on the rope anchoring the brand-new ship to shore. When it was securely stuck in the sand, he laid the bundle in his arms across the prow, turning briefly to her. "Yes, but thank you, Sif. I must do this alone, for him."

Sif nodded, eyes on the torch in her hand as she moved towards the ship herself. Propping the flaming torch in a groove of the stern as a temporary sconce, she placed a hand on Thor's shoulder wordlessly for a moment, before starting her own walk back to the palace. As she crossed the beach, reaching the road, a glint of metal caught her eye, and she looked up at the over-passing bridge above her. She spotted none other than Odin, intently watching Thor's movements down at the water's edge, before she slipped away into the dark streets.

Thor laid out Loki's things in the bilge of the small ship, taking care with each item. He laid out the vibrant emerald cloak to its full length, fastening the golden clasp at the front with tears in his eyes.

The light of the torch revealed the covers of the books, which were spell books for children, beginners. A tear rolled down his face at the sight of them, as visions of a small Loki closeted away in a window seat with his nose in the worn volumes came to mind. He'd always teased him, told him he should train with a metal-and-hilt sword instead of a leather-and-parchment book…And then his magic saved Jane, as it had saved Thor's own life time after time through the years they fought side by side.

He laid the three volumes side to side on top of the cloak, scrubbing a rough hand across his eyes.

The gauntlet, he held onto with reference for several moments. It was well worn, the edges scuffed, the magical symbols etched into it faded with age and use. He bowed his head, kneeling in the sand as he pressed his lips to the worn battle paraphernalia.

Unbeknownst to him, Odin watched from afar, apparently impassive in the darkness, except for the fist clenching ever tighter around his scepter. He was lucky the darkness hid him, for his image almost seemed to flicker in the faint glow from lamp-lit streets, and the usually-cerulean eyes could have morphed to emerald, if one were close enough to see.

* * *

At last, Thor rose, placing the gauntlet on top of the books gingerly before backing towards the stern, grabbing the torch from its small holder. A hand on the edge of the ship, Thor walked parallel with it as he guided it out to sea himself. When he was up to his chest in the dark waves, he wiped a hand across his eyes again, letting go and flicking the torch into the bed of the ship with a solemn nod.

The vessel was quick to catch ablaze, much like the deity it represented, and Thor smiled sadly as the current caught it, flames burgeoning as it was pulled quietly towards the horizon. He slowly backed up out of the waves, his drenched armor and cape nothing to him as he bade his brother farewell.

He watched until the flames withered to nothing in the distance where water met sky, until it was nearly dawn, as did Odin, far behind him, and only then did Thor murmur "Goodbye, Loki."

The image of the Allfather flickered again, and the cloud cover shrouding the moon lifted for but a moment, but it was enough to reveal the silver-tongued god of mischief, fully armored and helmed, standing in the very same spot. When the moon was again hidden, so was Loki's visage, but when Odin spoke, smooth, dulcet tones came quietly from his lips, not his own tones. "Thank you for that." Thor bowed his head once more, almost in acknowledge of the gratitude, and turned from the water to trudge back to his chambers.

The king turned and made his way back towards his throne, moving almost too quickly for Odin. But he had pressing courtly matters to attend to, of course, and haste could be excused.

* * *

**I made myself sad towards the end, flail. Thank goodness for illusions, eh? ~Bon**


End file.
